How marvellously still and sure they hold,
They shine so bright despite how far they are,
And though they might be dead they're not yet cold.
I wish they'd learn how constellations form,
How tiny dots become such wondrous shapes
Despite the fact that on one dot rage storms,
And on another silent calmness drapes.
I long for order in my bustling mind,
I long for stillness, sureness of my thoughts,
I long for ponderings that gleam and shine,
Not for this meaningless array of dots.
And yet, although I wish this every day,
My thoughts remain a messy disarray.
Inspired by the song Stars from the musical Les Miserables, to be precise, these lines:
"You know your place in the sky,You hold your course and your aim,And each in your seasons returns and returns,And is always the same."